


Not Without You

by Obscure_Princess



Series: My Stucky Universe [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, M/M, Marvel - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform, Stucky forever, Who the Hell is Bucky?, mcu - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 07:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15138188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscure_Princess/pseuds/Obscure_Princess
Summary: Fan fiction set right after Infinity War - steve Rogers is mourning the Love of his life Bucky Barnes, remembering their gorgeous time together...





	Not Without You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel of my first fanfictions "I’ve crossed Oceans of Time To Find You" and "When You Gaze Into The Abyss, The Abyss Also Gazes Into You". Please read those before.
> 
> This is the the third of a series of 3 (or more!). I'll probably be waiting for Avengers 4 before writing another longer one, but who knows? :)  
> I'm NOT an English native speaker, so please forgive me for any typo/grammar mistakes and for maybe not choosing the best words...

 

The evening shadows were getting longer and longer, tinting the jungle with darker, mysterious notes. The colors of the Wakandan nature were rising in their entire splendor, presenting such a sublime design, which seemed impossible to describe.

Steve Rogers was standing on the grass, barefooted.

"Go to the highest peak" Shuri had told him. "The sunset will help calming your troubled mind. It worked for..." She didn't say _his_ name. She knew he didn't want to hear.

He walked there, taking the longest and most arduous path. In any other day, such view would have astounded him. But now everything appeared blurred. And muffled. And tasteless. He had been looking at the world through his tears for the past few days - _How many?_ -, barely overheard sounds and... He couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten - everything tasted like dust anyway.

_Dust. And ash._ A tear slowly caressed his cheek.

Half of the population of the whole universe had been wiped out in a snap of fingers. It sounded too nightmarish even to imagine. He thought for a moment about the millions of people, and billions of beings who were mourning and crying their dead ones everywhere. And surprisingly realized he didn't care at all.

He looked around, studying the trees, the rivers, smelling, listening. Wakanda looked like the symbol of the beauty and peace he had been fighting for throughout his life, marvelous and sublime.

He desperately tried to feel _alive_.

But it was all useless. His own world had shattered, turned blank, empty. And awfully silent.

Only one face was in his mind all the time. Only one name. And only one word: "Steve..."

Bucky had called him, a desperate plead. In fear, anguish. And love. All his love, reaching out and screaming through one, simple word. His name. _Him_. That's all Bucky wanted. And he couldn't even reach him in time, hold his hand. He had promised him to be always by his side. Some empty words...

He wanted to shout his pain out. He wanted the whole world to hear the mourn of its hero for once. But he could barely breathe. He tried one more time to inhale the evening fresh hair. It felt like dust. Again.

He was so tired of it all. He had been fighting all his life, Evil seemed to be everywhere, with different faces, different shapes, different motives. When would he have got the chance to rest, to look around and feel everything was fine, to savor some true happiness for himself only?

He found Bucky just to lose him. Again. And again. And every time it had got more excruciating painful. He had lost him as a companion, then as a friend, and then as a lover. And this time, for good. He felt like the sorrow was tearing his soul and mind apart like a mad furious beast.

_Some hero, hiding behind your powerful shield. And you couldn't save him. You couldn't save the Love of your life. You let him die. Again._

That voice screamed the loudest in his head.

He looked at the pit before him. He felt it was calling for him. How dreadfully inviting it looked. No more battles, no more wars. Life had taken everything from him.

He fell on his knees.

_Fight it..._

How many times after all had he silenced that voice screaming everything was lost and hopeless? How many times had he stood and fought again?

"Steve... just kill me". Bucky had told him once. He remembered the despair when he thought Bucky was giving up, and still felt ashamed recalling that for a bare moment he had thought of giving up himself.

_Yeah, but Bucky was with him back then, he was still alive, he was…_

Another memory suddenly imposed in his mind: the warmth of Bucky's body pressed on his… and what came after. His scent, his taste, his moans, the magnificent glory of his first orgasm with him.

_He let a mindless smile go through his tears. It felt painful._

"He is awaken". T'challa had told him over the phone. "He asked for you". He wasn't expecting to hear from him so soon. Not long had passed since Bucky had left for Wakanda. Shuri sounded so confident she could heal his mind; he had prayed she was right.

While his jet was landing in Wakanda, his heart was beating so violently he was afraid everyone could hear it. Bucky had left him right after their night together, claiming that “nothing had happened between them” - but that "nothing" had been burning and consuming his mind instead.

He had thought about Bucky every day, sweet and melancholic memories mixing up with passionate and fervent moments. He had missed the world of him: his laughs, his voice, his company. His mouth, his body, his touch.

When he saw him, he had stopped breathing. But it was not only bare anticipation: Bucky was smiling, in a way he hadn't seen since their previous life, before Hydra, before war. A pure, innocent, thoughtless smile; his blue eyes were shining. That moment Steve knew everything was really going to be ok. His heart had warmed up.

He had quickly embraced him without saying a word, in the attempt to conceal the tears of joy he was uncontrollably shedding. Bucky's arms wrapped around his body had made him feel alive again, as he was waking up from a long, blank sleep. He was there, his friend, his companion, his love. And he was happy, finally genuinely happy... Steve had close his eyes and sighted. The world around had just disappeared, it was them and only them, nothing else mattered. He didn’t even know how long they remained in each other’s arms, lost in their moment, it could have been seconds, it could have been hours. Shuri’s giggling had brought them back to reality, and only then, he had realized how awkward everything had turned. He had felt his cheeks burning up, but Bucky didn't seem to mind.

"Come, Steve..." Bucky had led him around the kingdom, comfortably moving around plants, flowers, animals and rivers. Wakandan nature was unbelievably gorgeous on its own, and Bucky's smile had brightened up everything even more. He had showed him his hut and the simple farming life he was living. Steve could hear calm and balance in his every word; he had so intensely hoped the Winter Soldier was really gone for good.

Bucky had ended the tour in T'challa's palace, an exquisite mix of classical and futuristic architecture. He had brought him to the highest tower and showed him the view of the rain forest, the waterfalls, the mountains, everything gently caressed by the red sunset light.

There and then, Bucky had sighed and got silent. Steve had kept casually glancing at him, trying to calm his emotions down. "Stop it" he had told himself. "He has been clear. Nothing happened between us, stop thinking about it. Just stop". Bucky had noticed his distress.

"I like your new arm". Steve had quickly said, feeling awfully stupid right after.

Bucky was still staring at him; his blue eyes were so penetrating.

“I didn’t take you for a fan of black…,” he laughed. That sound, so familiar and yet so new, had filled Steve’s senses to the core.

He had found himself pressing his lips on Bucky’s without even realizing that. It had been instinctual, incontrollable.

He had retreated as soon as he had grasped what he was doing. Bucky’s face was an unreadable blank mask, but he was no longer smiling.

Steve had felt his heart drowning.

“I’m so sorry, Buck… I shouldn’t have done...”

Before he could finish his apology, Bucky was all over him. He had bitten and sucked his lips, holding him still with that vigorous grip Steve had learnt to love.

His initial surprise had rapidly made place for a sublime delight.

“I forgot how quick you are…” Steve had sighed in arousal, smiling.

Bucky didn’t say a word, his tongue voluptuously looking for Steve’s; he was craving for mixing their taste, their fluids, so harshly and intensely Steve could hardly breathe.

He had pushed him down on the floor, and removed his shirt with a quick movement. One instant later, he had felt his skin burning under Bucky’s fierce, wet exploration. His desire seemed uncontainable.

“Slow down…” Steve had whispered.

“I want you. I want you _now,_ ” Bucky had panted. And kissed him again, moving his hand between Steve’s thighs and finding the same voluptuous craving that was taking over him. Steve had groaned under his touch, again and louder when Bucky’s hand slipped in his trousers and started rubbing him. He had thrown his head back and surrendered to him. Bucky had taken off his shirt and unfastened his trousers, without breaking eye contact. Steve could see all the compulsion on his face, but it was not only erotic urge.

Bucky had pulled him up and turned him around. Steve had felt his chest pressing on his back, his accelerated heartbeat, and his panting breath on his neck. His skin had felt burning hot.

Bucky had seized his body from behind and penetrated him. A thousand sweet memories of their first and only night together had filled Steve’s head for a long and yet shortest moment. Bucky’s grasp on his ribs was so strong Steve could hardly breathe. He was surrounding him with all his arms, as he wanted to prevent him from escaping.

Pain and pleasure had mixed up under Bucky’s harsh thrusts, he could see, hear and feel his desire growing second after second, it had all happened so fast he could hardly believe it was real. Bucky had increased the pace; bolts of delight had spread all over Steve’s body, his notes had mixed with Bucky’s in a gorgeous melody, until their dazzling act reached its exquisite, racy peak.

Bucky was still moaning his orgasm out when he bent over him, welcoming him in his mouth. He had sucked and rubbed him so greedily Steve almost felt pain.

“S-top…” he had begged, but only a hiss came out of his lips.

He wanted to take him, to own him. But he was feeling he couldn't hold for long.

Looking at Bucky lusting over him had sent waves of excitement down his legs, turned into feverish pleasure under his tongue. The godly wetness of Bucky’s mouth abusing him so hungrily was too much to stand.

When he felt Steve’s muscles contracting, Bucky had gone even deeper, tighten his grip on his thighs and avidly savoring his fluids.

Having a climax in Bucky’s mouth had been a new, overwhelming experience. He had let the orgasmic convulsions spreading all over his body, his mind, his senses. And finally collapsed on the cold stone floor.

Bucky had let him go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We’d better move to your bedroom… considering how loud you are!” he had told him with a naughty smile.

“Did I moan loud?” Steve had asked in true disbelief.

“I think all six tribes have heard you, Steve…”

Once again, he had felt his cheeks burning up.

Bucky had helped him up and they both made themselves decent enough to walk to Steve’s guest room.

Once the door closed behind them, Bucky had kissed him again. Tasting himself on his tongue had awakened the pleasure that was still crawling under Steve’s skin. He had tried to hold him, but Bucky had stepped back. “Let's have a shower”

He had grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom, gorgeously decorated as the rest of the palace. Steve had thought it was all too perfect to be true.

Some quick movements and the few clothes there were wearing were off again.

The water had felt great on Steve’s skin, Bucky’s touch felt even better. That slow and sensual exploration was turning divine. He had taken his time to study Bucky’s body while we was gently scrubbing it with scented soaps, any of his curves was a delight for his eyes, every touch a way to find his most sensitive spots. The running water seemed to wash away the painful past, all the awful memories of death and sorrow. They were there, they were together. The long and fleshly kiss they had exchanged tasted like a promise of heaven. Bucky had teasingly licked and bitten his lips and played with his wet hair. And his smile… his smile was all for him.

They had stepped out and laid on the bed, both naked and still wet. It felt great in the Wakandan hot and humid weather.

Bucky had started tickling his chest, following his curves with his finger. “You are so gorgeous…” he had said in a dreaming tone. “I remember what a little thin boy you used to be…”

“Yeah… a whole lot has changed since then…”

Bucky had lifted his left arm. The night light gave to the black metal a bluish shade. “I guess you are right…”

Steve had caught a shadow of sadness in Bucky’s eyes while he was looking at his own limb. He had taken his metal hand in his own and hold it for a while. And finally he had brought it to his mouth. He had closed his lips around one of his fingers and caressed his tongue with it. The taste of vibranium reminded him of blood. Then he had sucked another one. He was loving this game...

“I never asked you before… do you feel anything?”

“Let's find out together, shall we?”

He had kept on sucking on the metal. Bucky’s breath had increased; he was biting his lower lip. Steve had wondered whether he was feeling any sensation or he was just enjoying the sight of his teasing game. He had realized he couldn't care less…

A glimpse to his sex promptly responding to his foreplay had made him realize it was time to start their dazzling dance again. They still had so much to explore, to discover and to experience…

He had rolled over Bucky and kissed him, his hand had gently slid on his erection, rubbing him slowly, then faster, than slowly again. Bucky was moaning, according to his movements. It was like playing a gorgeous music instrument. Steve had silenced him with his kisses at first, and then moved his lips on his neck and his ear close to his mouth, not to miss any single note.

“I can do this all day…,” he had whispered.

Bucky had giggled, catching that reference.

As soon as Steve had felt warm drops of fluids on his hands, he had moved lower and pleased him with his tongue, tasting his initial, moist delight. Bucky had grabbed the pillow, squeezing it in his metal fingers, agonizing in anticipation. But Steve was not in a rush at all.

“Please…” Bucky had begged him.

With a smile, Steve had taken him in his mouth, massaging him with his lips and tongue. He had gone on and on, slowing down the pace every time he had felt Bucky was getting closer.

“Fuck, Steve!” Bucky had screamed, “You are killing me…”

He had grabbed his head, following and leading his movements at the same time, and forcing him on himself until he found his satisfying, juicy release. While receiving his delight in his mouth, Steve had looked at his facial expressions contracted in the orgasmic climax, and thought all the beauty in the world was there in bed with him.

Bucky was panting in ecstasy, but his glance still looked ferociously hungry.

Steve had spread his thighs. His desire of finally taking him was consuming him.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you…” he had whispered.

Bucky had rolled his eyes. “Your innocence is intoxicating, Steve…”

He had roughly pushed him down on the bed, and with a quick leap, he was over him. He had started riding him gently, slowly, and then faster, harder. He had presented his fingers to Steve to suck again, and then moved them on his chest, on his nipples. The warmth of his flesh hand and the cold of his metal one created an exquisite contrast on his skin.

After a while, Steve had grabbed him and led him beside on the bed. He had surrounded his body with his arm while they were both laying on their side.

“You won’t leave me again. You are mine.” He had thought, dazed by the craving. And he had harshly penetrated him again. Bucky had grinned. Steve had kissed his neck and bit his earlobe. He had tightened his grip on his body as his pleasure increased at every thrust; his hand carelessly moved all over him and finally seized around Bucky’s throat. The desire of taking over him in any possible way was crushing his mind. Bucky had growled under his pressure, but had kept smiling in a ravenous way. Steve had increased the pace, stretching and filling him divinely, until he spilled into him with a last, deep stab.

Only when he had loosened the grip, he had realized what he was doing. He had felt terrible.

“I’m sorry” he blew, catching his breath. “Did I hurt you?”

“Fuck, Steve! That was insane…” Bucky was panting very heavily, breathless, grasping for air.

“Language!” after saying that, Steve had felt himself again.

He had pulled Bucky close to him and gently kissed his hair, still slightly wet.

“Looks like we need another shower…”

“Later…” Bucky had replied, wetting his lips. “It’s my turn”.

“Let me rest…” Steve begged with a smile.

“You rested for decades, now I'm not gonna stop till I got every last drop of pleasure out of you…” Bucky had sighed on his lips, reaching out for his sex again. His lust seemed insatiable.

“Wow, if this is what is left of the Winter Soldier, I might get used to it” He had thought, but hadn’t said a word. There was no reason to poison their moment with painful memories. He had just smiled and welcomed Bucky’s lips again.

 

He was already having breakfast with T’challa and his family when Bucky walked in, showing his usual morning sleepy face in spite of the late hour.

“Yes, yes, we know…” T’challa said in a mocking tone “<Winter is coming>, right Shuri?”

“Actually it seems Winter already came several times last night…” Shuri had causally replied intensely staring at Steve. He had chocked on his juice so badly he couldn’t stop coughing. Bucky had simply sat down with a wide smile on his face. In spite of the awkwardness of the whole situation, Steve had felt at home for the first time in forever.

 

_T’challa… He was gone too. They had fought each other for Bucky’s life or death, with everything they had. And finally, they had become pals. How much he had done for him, for both of them. He welcomed Bucky had a guest, he took care of him, he healed his mind. And he protected_ _him better than he could have ever done. Steve had brought the battle to him, it had been his decision. And T’challa had sacrificed people, friends, family. To just finally vanish himself. It all sounded again so useless, so vane, so… hopeless._

The following days in Wakanda had been like a dream, out of time and space, out of this world.

He and Bucky seemed unable to stay away from each other. They had walked together, swum together, laughed together. And had sex all the times they could. An impatient craving was whispering sweet words at Steve’s ear all the time, but for Bucky… it looked _different_. More feverish, more instinctual. His body seemed to be roaring in lust all the time. Sometimes he had surprised him awaken at night, just staring at the ceiling, motionless and quiet. That sight had made him shiver every time, but all he ever did was just look for his hand to hold, hoping that Bucky wouldn’t perceive how terrified and distressed he was. He knew he couldn’t make it better, but he desperately wanted him to feel he was _there_. Bucky was better, his happiness was genuine, but the Winter Soldier was still poisoning his mind, and the path to get rid of him was still long and painful. Not once he had mentioned that, he didn’t even know whether Bucky was aware of his own sleepless nights and his disturbing hunger. Not a word, until he had found himself face to face alone with Shuri.

“I hope he is not overtiring you…,” she has said with a wide, naughty smile.

“No offence, but can we please not talk about that?” he had replied, visibly in discomfort.

Shuri’s face had turned serious. “He needs you" she had just said.

“And I need him” he had replied without hesitation.

“It’s not the same. The Winter Soldier is still there. I know you realized that too. And I'm not surprised this comes out so… intensely when you sleep together”

“You mean you called me here to ease his angst?” he had asked, sounding more upset than he actually was.

“What I meant is that… you’ll just have to learn to love also that part of him.”

Steve had nodded.

“You know… Sometimes he looks lost inside himself, sometimes he cries.” She had continued. “But since you are here… I've never seen him smiling like that.”

Steve had felt a warm sensation filling his heart.

Shuri had turned serious again. “But you can't stay; you know that… it has to be gradual. Otherwise you will be his cure and his curse again.”

Steve had just sighed. The idea of leaving Bucky one more time was tearing his soul apart. But he trusted her.

“He will get better… I promise. You will have your friend back,” she had continued with a smile. “Meanwhile… enjoy him!” she had blinked and walked away giving him a little casual spank on the butt while passing by.

 

_“You will have your friend back,” she had said. And she had kept her promise. Little lovely Shuri. She was broken. And terrified. She never wanted to rule Wakanda. Now she had to. With death and sorrow in her heart, she had to lead people with death and sorrow in their hearts. She didn’t even have the time to mourn, she seemed like she was silently begging for help all the time._

Some days later, he was ready to leave. He had spent with Bucky every minute he could, and still it didn't seem enough. They had a lifetime to keep up with.

The idea of not seeing his first smile in the morning and falling asleep beside him in the evening was terrible to bear, but one more time, he had to be strong.

Bucky was looking calm about his departure instead. Too calm indeed, Steve had thought. Maybe it all was just an illusion, maybe he was really nothing more than a cure for his shattered mind, maybe even just a… - how did Tony use to call that? – “friend with benefits”. He had feelings for Bucky since ever; there was no reason to deny that anymore. But now, his love for him had filled his mind and soul beyond healing.

He had wished to protract their last kiss forever, to keep him in his arms one more second, one more minute, one more _lifetime_. He had blinked back his tears with a huge effort.

When they parted, Bucky was looking concerned.

“Did I make it up to you?” he had unexpectedly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“After our first night together, I told you that nothing happened between us. I… I will never forget your face. You can’t imagine how much that lie cost me”.

“Wait… you mean that…?”

“I love you, Steve…,” he had said, with a serious and yet sad face. “Please forgive me I’m not good enough for you".

Steve’s senses had suddenly gone so numb he was afraid he didn’t get it right. Did Bucky just say he didn’t deserve him? Did he just say he…?

He had grabbed his face with both hands and made him look into his eyes. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Steve. Forgive me I’m not…”

“One more time" he had interrupted him.

Bucky had smiled. “I love you, Steve".

“Don't stop" he had begged, hugging him.

Bucky had giggled. “I love you, Steve… but put me down now!”

Steve hadn’t even noticed he was lifting him in the air. He felt light as his heart.

“So… sorry" he had mumbled and embraced him again. His joy was so overwhelming he had felt tears running down his checks. He wanted nothing else in the world but holding him, every single minute…

 

_...till the end of the line._

 

_The memory of that moment suddenly shattered something inside him. Bucky belonged to him, he was his… “till the end of the line”. He couldn't believe they had reached the end of the line. He intensely wished he had died too, turned into ashes and vanished. He looked into the black pit again. He felt the weight of who he really was: just a lone barefooted man crying in an empty night. He screamed his sorrow, his desperation, his anger. No one was listening._

 

“Are you sure a 100-year-old messed up sergeant is what you really want?”

“I don’t want to ever hear again you are not good enough. I'd fight again the whole world for you… I love you, Bucky”.

He had felt pain on his right side, where Bucky’s metal arm was holding him. He had felt sublime.

He had released the embrace and looked at him in the eyes. “I'll come back," he had said.

“I know you will…”

 

He had come back. After weeks of silence, not a word from him or the Wakandan royals. Bucky was in his mind all the time. Steve was so light-headed he was very thankful to have friends backing him up in his fugitive life.

“I'm sure he is fine, better than us anyway!” Sam kept telling him.

Once she had finally called him, Shuri had been very vague over the phone; she had just told him it was time to go back, no mention about Bucky’s condition.

When he saw him, it had felt like the first time again. Holding, kissing him, feeling his body pressed on his own again had open another chapter of their gorgeous tale.

Bucky’s smile looked somehow even purer and more genuine.

He had remained the same wonderful lover, but there was something less disturbing in his personality. It was beyond words, just a sensation, but it was there, Steve could feel it. He was healing; he was more serene, more balanced, more… James Buchanan Barnes.

Once they were in bed, catching their breath. He had looked for his hand to hold, but Bucky had suddenly retreated it.

“Bucky?” he had asked, surprised by his reaction.

Bucky had looked at him with an empty, blank glance Steve had seen before. A glance from a dark and scary past. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Steve’s blood had frozen. No, it couldn't be. He had felt like he was drowning into an old, terrible nightmare. All he could do was just staring at Bucky, his breath blocked in his throat, every single muscle paralyzed by fear and anguish.

After a moment, Bucky had started laughing soundly and grabbed Steve’s cellphone from the bedside table.

“Can you please show me that epic face again? It deserves a pic for future generations”

Steve had looked at him in disbelief, a sudden furious wrath mounting inside.

“Fuck you! You are a jerk!” he had screamed, surprised to hear such words coming from him.

“Language… Punk!” Bucky had said, mimicking him.

Steve had felt all his anger melting inside in a second. If Bucky could even joke about his past, the worst part had really passed.

 

The third time he was there, Bucky told him he had been training with Okoye. T’challa had presented him a vibranium knife, wonderfully crafted. Steve had found out he didn't like the idea at all.

Some days after his arrival, Bucky had called him in the gardens. He was preparing to train with T’challa. He was holding his new knife, while the king was wearing his Black Panther suit, unmasked. They both looked very confident about what they were doing, as that wasn’t the first time.

When they started fighting, Steve had hold his breath. Bucky was attacking and defending with a terrible precision, he was quick and deadly like a snake. And that combat was unavoidably waking up all his old frenzy. He had fought against him and with him, he knew that too well, and he was horribly afraid of what was about to happen.

That anticipation had turned him so tensed that Shuri’s voice had made him jump. “He wanted you to see this”

“Why… why in the world are you doing this?” he had feverishly asked her.

“Because he is a soldier. A formidable one” Shuri had replied as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He is not ready for that. He can't control it.” Steve was rising his voice.

“And how is he ever going to learn how to control it if not slowly going through it?” Shuri’s tone had remained calm and confident.

“You are playing with fire”

“You think I'd risk my brother’s life to prove a point?”

“What if you are wrong?”

She had smiled. “That would be the first time ever, Captain"

He had closed his eyes and shaken his head. He knew that glance, that fury, that _frenzy_. The fear of waking up the Winter Soldier again was too strong. He couldn't lose Bucky again.

“You can't cancel that side of him. He is a fighter, a survivor. I told you once; you must learn to love also that part"

“I do.” No hesitation in his voice.

“Then just look! He won’t like that you didn’t” Shuri had invited him. “Or... are you jealous?”

Steve had given her a nasty look. Her way of joking about everything was starting to irritate him.

“Oh my god! You are jealous!” she had repeated, still smiling.

”Stop joking, this is serious!”

“But I am serious. It's you who don't seem to trust what we have done for him till now".

Steve had suddenly felt ashamed of himself. She was right. They had taken great care of Bucky until then, he had no reason to question that. He couldn't believe they were trying to wake up the Winter Soldier for any reason. He was just terribly scared. Scared of losing his friend, his love, his _everything_ one more time.

He had obliged himself to silence his fear and just look.

Bucky was indeed a remarkable warrior. His actions were quick and precise, that knife looked like an extension of his arm, his movements were so agile and elegant he looked like he was dancing on the water. He was so exquisitely exploiting that burning passion he had seen and felt every time they possessed each other. How wonderful he was to look at… He had mindlessly wet his lips.

He had waken up from that dreamy vision when Bucky put T’challa down with a round kick. With a quick bound, he was jumping over him, his knife ready to strike, his teeth grinned in a mad fury. Steve had shut his eyes, a scream died in his throat.

“Dead!” Bucky had said in an amused tone.

Steve had looked back, and had found him over T’challa, his knife inches from the king’s eyes. They were both panting and smiling.

“That was great. Thanks, Your Highness” Bucky had said helping T’challa up.

“Anytime, White Wolf".

They had indulged a little bit too long, holding each other arm, and smiling.  Steve had felt an unpleasant frozen sensation running down his spine.

“Your friend is great warrior,” T’challa had told him before walking away with Shuri.

“Did I do well? Did you see that?” Bucky had asked him with a childish enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah, you are a great warrior, White Wolf...” his tone had sounded louder and more unpleasant than he meant.

“Told ya you are jealous!” Shuri had yelled at him and kept walking away with her brother.

“Don’t mention her, she is a bit annoying but she means good. And, uh, T’challa… I don't think he is interested in me at all".

Steve had looked at him with a provoking smile. “You don't _think_ …?”

“Well, could you blame him if he actually wanted a piece of… this?” Bucky had done a silly dance pace to show off his body.

Steve had played that nice scene along, but he had never stopped studying his face, his reaction, his emotions. Bucky, who was so heated up during the fight, was calm and playful. He couldn't believe there was indeed no trace at all of the Winter Soldier.

Some days after, Bucky had given him the chance to test that himself. It was a hot afternoon and they were laying on the grass in T’challa’s garden. Bucky had started nudging him in such an irritating way after a joke about their war past. When Steve tried to block his wrists, Bucky had got over him with one of his quick leaps and pushed his arms beside his head. His grips, especially the one of his metal arm, were really strong.

“Defeat me, Captain America…” Bucky had challenged him.

“Just let go. I'm NOT fighting you.” Steve had stated.

Bucky had looked annoyed. “You can be really boring at times, you know? It's just arm wrestling, come on!”

“Fine!” he had smiled and hard-pressed back, trying to free himself.

Bucky had pushed harder, and so did he. They had carried on until it had turned painful, and still couldn't shove one another of a single inch. Steve could again see how much Bucky’s blood was boiling up, but he had quieted his concern and just tried to enjoy that exciting contest. He had stared into his eyes, and loved what he was seeing. A delightful frenzy was running through his own veins as well, fight frenzy, erotic frenzy. He had collected every bit of strength and managed to push him away.

“You got served. I'm stronger!” he had said in a joking tone.

“Might be…” Bucky had replied with a smile, catching his breath. “But I can suck better!”

His last bit of concern had left him in that moment. “My oh my!” he had laughed, rolling his eyes. “You are such a sore loser!”

He didn't want to show Bucky how overly happy he actually was. His inner chaos was really under control at the end; it had seemed too good to be true.

“Can you guys please do that again? I'd like to record a video for my lonely nights!” Shuri had yelled at them. She had the capability to unexpectedly show up and turn everything exquisitely awkward, Steve had thought. One more time, he had felt at home and crazily grateful to her, to them all...

 

His last joyful memory was the last time he had left Wakanda.

“I hope I'll be able to join you soon enough, Steve. I want to be with you," Bucky had simply told him.

 “I’m longing every day for that moment, Buck. I want to show the whole world how much I love you”.

 

But they didn't have the chance. The last time Steve had come, he had brought the battle right there. He knew he had no choice, he did what he had to do, he had this one and only option and he took it.

Now he was feeling all the weight of his decision on him. The guilt was crushing him. He thought he had to save Vision, he really believed that. At the end, Vision was gone, and so was Wanda. And T’challa, and Sam, and…

_Oh God…_

He laid on the grass. Its scent was pleasant. He liked feeling it under his feet, his hands, his cheeks.

He couldn’t tell for how long he had been crying. Tears of rage, tears of fear, tears of desperation. They tasted bitter and miserable, like himself. He felt like his own soul was abandoning him.

He thought he had seen all possible horror in his life, until he met Thanos. The mighty Captain America had been defeated for the first time. And it costed him everything. Now he could only mourn.

Mourn... his mind went to Thanos and what he did with the Time Stone. The Time Stone… Was there really a chance to revert all that? Thanos did it; he had blocked the sands of time, reverted them at his will, and changed the reality itself.

_That’s senseless…_

He had seen such improbable things reality itself had stopped making sense. Anything seemed possible with those Infinity Stones. And if it was possible for Thanos, it had to be for him. No matter the cost.

He got up.

“I’m done crying,” he whispered to himself.

Few words roaring with all the fury and angst fighting inside him. Thanos had to pay for every tears he made him shed, for every smile he had stolen from him, from them.

He was going to find Bucky. No matter what.

 


End file.
